Ember
by The-Shy-Quiet-One
Summary: Broom obsessed and bold, Ember has never been one to fall to weakness. Yet, not everyone can be strong all the time. A series of one shots about one of my Next-Gen RP OCs.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: J.K Rowling created the Harry Potter universe in which this takes place.

Note: The song is 'Red is the Rose'.

**Ember**

"Emily-Amber! Get back here, lass, and put your clothes on!" Meghan Stonefyre shouted, sounding quite angry and extremely frustrated as she stood out on the front steps of a small stone cottage. She was in her early forties, her red hair already streaked with grey here and there, wrinkles on her face from laughter and anger all mixed together as she glared out over the colorful front garden at a streaking blur of skin and red hair. She held a dress in her hands, frilly and blue and in perfect condition compared to the rest of her spirited daughter's clothing. The blur slowed, small bare feet kicking up standing right on up on the broomstick currently carrying it across the yard.

A girl, about seven, placed two fists on her hips, shaking her head while her wild mane of dark red hair furled up all over around her head. She wore nothing but a pair of underwear, an undershirt, and a key on a chain over her skinny little freckled body. Feet positioned with ease on her Nimbus 2000, the child glared at her mother, hovering in place, about nine feet from the ground, high enough to where her mother couldn't reach her. "I am _not _wearing that! It's sissy!"

"It is a perfectly lovely dress for a pretty little lass. Now get down here and put it on or I swear, I will ground you."

"You can't ground me if you can't catch me!"

"Ember, love, please listen to your mother and get your clothes on." A gentle male voice stated calmly, blue eyes and brown hair poking it's way out of one of the front windows of the cottage. The child looked between her parents, frowning at the fact that she was being double teamed today. Usually she had at least a little bit of support against the frilly dressed from her father, David, but today… well. Today there were bags under his eyes and he looked impossibly tired, like he had been up all night working in his shop. He was developing again, a new broomstick for the company he was a co-owner of. He was just in the beginning process though, so it would be a long while before there was an actual broom, but he had a general idea of exactly the kind he wanted to make, and it was based around his little hellion of a daughter.

That girl… She had taken to flying so naturally it was almost scary. He had given her a toy broom, much to her mother's dismay, as soon as it was determined she could sit up on her own and stay up. Most parents would have balked at the idea, called him absolutely crazy for allowing an infant who wasn't even a year old yet, to have such a toy. Toy brooms weren't that dangerous though, flying low enough so that the child's toes skimmed the ground and not going very fast. At least, until David had decided his daughter needed something a little more extreme to keep her from getting bored. From the time Emily-Amber, or rather, Ember as she was called by everyone except her mother, was two, she had begun expressing the desire for a better broomstick. Faster, higher, more like Da's Nimbus that she loved being taken up on. Meghan had been completely against it, so, for the next two years, Ember had been hopelessly stuck with a toy broom that went too slow for her liking, though she did get exceptionally good at riding it with just her feet and practicing hand-stands, things her father showed her to keep her interest alive. When she was four though, David had finally given in, much to Meghan's dismay.

It took three days of tinkering and spell breaking, but David took that toy broomstick and amped it up, giving it a total make over. He increased the length by a few inches and reset the safety parameters, maybe a little too much tweaking, as Meghan almost killed him when he admitted to increasing the speed limit to thirty miles per hour and the height to fifteen feet. David knew though, that his little flying prodigy could handle it. She was bold, unafraid of heights and a fifteen foot fall wasn't too great so long as she stayed over the plush grass of the garden. She might break an arm or something, but who didn't eventually do that when they were obsessed with flying? And he was right.

Ember took to her revamped broomstick without any help and was soon doing cartwheels and trying out other tricks that made her mother's skin crawl. It was actually a week later, that Meghan found her very first gray hair right after Ember broke her arm for what was the first, and what would definitely not be the last, time. By the time she was six, Ember was coming back into the house covered in more dirt and bruises than ever, dried blood streaking her skin, clothes completely torn to bits. Yet, there was almost always a huge cheeky grin on her face.

Now at seven, Ember's toy broom had been stored away along the wall of broomsticks in her father's shop. He had invented almost every single one, though, there were a few from before the company he and his friend has started, Kamikaze Racing Brooms, had been founded. Ember could have had any of them for her seventh birthday, the agreed upon date that was typical for most wizarding children to start learning how to fly on a proper broomstick, and yet, she chose one of the lesser brooms in the lot. The Nimbus 2000 that had been her father's since he was eighteen, was not anywhere near as good as any of the Kamikaze broomsticks, nor even the old Firebolt which had supposedly been the broom to end all brooms back in the early nineties. Ember chose the Nimbus, strictly because it was the one she knew the best. She was familiar with the way it moved, having ridden on it since she had been born, strapped tightly to her father's chest in a sling. It had exceptional sentimental value and, despite it's age, was in excellent condition simply due to having been so well cared.

And now David's child stood, bold and proud as ever, her jaw set in that position it got when she was opposed to doing something her mother was telling her to do. Meghan had been so excited about having a girl, to do her hair up and dress her all pretty. A proper little lady to play tea party and dolls, sweet, gentle, and poised. Ember was none of those things, purely her father's daughter. There was nothing to be done about it except try to get her to behave while letting her run free as a wild flower at the same time.

"But Da, it's so sissy! Can'I wear something else?"

"Tell you what. You put on the dress and I'll let you help me come up with designs for this badass beast of a broomstick." David bribed, sipping at the cup of coffee in his hands, watching as the words hit his daughter's ears and her expression eased, pondering. There were very few things that could get Ember off of her broomstick. Crashing, apple pie, and helping her Da in his shop when she wasn't usually allowed in there when he had to work on something super serious. Not that he didn't love having her around, but sometimes he needed quiet to concentrate, or he was doing charm work, testing out which ones would be best for whatever new broom he was working on.

"David, you need to rest…" Meghan chided, frowning at her husband's offer. She didn't like it when he bribed Ember, though it did work most of the time. However, he had already been working for hours, all night and most of yesterday. At this rate, he was going to wear himself thin. There was also no telling a former Hufflepuff when to stop working so hard though. He wouldn't quit until he fell asleep at his work bench or finished what he wanted to get done.

David smiled at his Ravenclaw of a wife, blue eyes twinkling. "Just for a little bit, darling, then I'll rest. Besides, it's mostly just shape and coloring. It's her broom anyway."

"I… Alright. Go on then, Emmi, love."

Ember smiled, leaned down and grabbed hold of her broomstick with both hands, flipping herself backwards off of it, holding tight as she lowered herself to the ground. Her feet hit and she shot forward, broom in one hand. Her mother moved to one side, holding out the dress as her daughter raced past her into the house, grabbing the dress as she went. She paused in the living room, setting the Nimbus up against the rack by the door and pulling the too lacey, puffy sleeved garment over her head, not even bothering to do up the buttons in the back before her feet carried her down the hallway to the wooden door at the very end. She waited there, bouncing, as David laughed, following after her.

The work shop was airy, bright and happy, even if it was mostly made out of wood and stone. David kept it neat, all of his wood working tools hung above the work bench, though the one he used most was the wand sticking out of his back jeans pocket. A barrel full of long sticks sat in one corner, specially chosen because each was a good length and type of wood for potential future broomsticks. There were draws, labeled and full of twigs and bristles, paints, polishes, and varnish. Files full of blue prints sat in a locked wooden cabinet, all organized the cabinets inner drawers, one of the few places David had strictly placed off limits. The left side wall was lined with broomsticks, most of them full working prototypes for Kamikaze, all hung vertically on proper broom stands. The whole room smelt of sawdust and broom polish, just like Ember's Da, and therefore, it was one of her most favorite places to be.

David lifted his daughter from behind, swooping her up into the air as she laughed, and setting her down gently on the work bench. He swept her long hair forward, reaching around her to do up the buttons of her dress while her legs hung down, swinging happily back and forth, her little hands holding onto the edge of the work bench. David sighed, reaching up and pushing her hair away from her dirty face, cupping both of her cheeks gently. "You need to be nicer to your mother, sweetheart. She's the only one you've got."

"But she wants me to be a girl." Ember shot back, frowning.

"Ember, lass, you are a girl." David laughed, shaking his head as his little one's antics. She was always coming out with such silly things. Last week it had been about how she thought cactuses were vastly underrated.

"For now. When I grow up though, I'm going to be a man. Like you. And marry a pretty lady who's good at healing spells so when I crash on my broom she can fix me up." Ember stated this very seriously, her face set without a single bit of humor in it. She reached up, playing with the iron key hanging from her neck as she did sometimes when she was thinking quite deeply. Her little pinky pressed between the teeth, though not hard enough to hurt her, just enough to feel it there.

"Oh, really, you'd rather be a man? Why is that?" David asked curiously, gazing down at his daughter's beautiful little face. She had gotten his eyes, but she looked almost every single bit like her mother otherwise. However, he was certain, with the way she took after him in personality, that the thing about eyes being the window to a person's soul must be true.

"Cause, nobody makes a man wear a dress when he dun wanna." Ember explained as if it were the most obvious thing on the planet. "And nobody ever gets angry with the boys when they get all dirty. Mam says girls as s'pose to be clean and do gentle things, like care for plants like she does or play with dolls. I like my dolls and looking after plants, Da, but Nimbus is way cooler. And dresses make doing tricks harder than pants do."

"Well, I can't disagree with you on that. But darling, you don't need to be a man to get dirty and wear pants."

"I don't?"

"No. But I can talk to your mother about letting you wear what you'd like to more. You're old enough to know what kinds of clothes you prefer and if it's not dresses, that's alright. Not saying she'll give in or that you'll never have to wear a dress again, but we'll see, alright? Maybe you could wear one for her sometimes, like maybe on Sundays."

Ember frowned, pondering that over in her little head for a few moments, weighting her options. On the one hand, if her mother said no, she'd still probably have to wear dressed, but then again, on the other hand, in the off chance Meghan agreed, she'd only have to wear a dress once a week which was much better than being forced into one most days. Finally, she nodded. "Okay. I really _do _like being a girl, Da. Just not so girly-girly."

"Ember, love, you have never been girly-girly." David laughed, kissing her forehead and moving to sit on his stool. He opened a drawer and pulled out a whole bunch of parchment, a regular pencil, and a large tin full of neatly organized colored pencils. He set these down on the work table and Ember brought her legs up, crossing them and turning her body so she was faced sideways. She took some of the parchment and the pencil, starting to draw out a broomstick as her father pulled his own pencil from where he kept it behind one ear.

"Hey Da?" Ember asked after a few minutes of sketching, though hers were not anywhere near as good as her father's detailed designs. They were very basic, rudimentary child drawings, usually covered in wild colors. David hung most of them up on his cork board above half of the work bench with whatever blue prints he had when he was actually carving. They kept his imagination open to all sorts of new possibilities.

"Yes, sweet rose?" David looked up from his sketch to find his daughter staring at him, her blue eyes full of stern fire and confused curiosity. She gazed at him, a question lingering on her lips before it spouted outwards, making him laugh.

"Even if I'm not a man when I grow up, can I still marry a pretty lady?"

"Aye, my gorgeous girl, you can marry whomever you take a fancy to so long as they fancy you back. If I had wanted, I could have married a man instead of your mother."

"Oh. Okay. That's good, because, instead of a man, I think I'd like to be a knight. And knights always marry fair ladies in the stories."

"I think that sounds like a fabulous idea." David smiled, reaching out and poking Ember on the nose. "Although, I thought you wanted to be a professional broom struntress?"

"That too. I'll be a knight, and a struntress, and a Quidditch player, and a broom maker, like you, and a Herbologist like Mammy. And a Mammy, and a wife, and a husband, and a candy shop keeper, and a cactus, and I want to live in a tree house in an apple tree that makes apples all year long like Mammy's does 'cept it'll be a cinnamon tree too, so I can always, always have cinnamon apples and apple pie whenever I want. And a cocoa tree too, so I can make chocolate for all of my friends, especially my best, best one. And I'll have the best broom ever once Nimbus is too old to fly anymore, but that won't happen probably til I'm a hundred anyway." Ember grinned, her words moving very quickly as she spoke, so excited about thinking about all of the things that could happen when she grew up. She liked imagining, dreaming of the many possibilities like all children do.

"Well, you're going to be very busy then." David reached out, stroking his daughter's hair, so pleased with how much she had her heart set on and knowing, sadly, she would probably grow out of all of those ideas much sooner than either of them knew. For now though, she was still little and he wasn't going to dash any of her big wild dreams for anything. "Isn't there anything you don't want to be?"

"A werewolf." Ember stated automatically, frowning. "Because Great Uncle Milo always looks so very sad around the full moon."

"That he does. But he does alright. You don't have a be a werewolf though, that only happens if you get bitten by one on a full moon, you know that." David sighed, knowing the idea of werewolves could be quite difficult for a child to understand sometimes. He patted Ember's knee and decided a change of subject might be the best course of action right now, to cheer her up. She was a soft soul, Ember, even if she was tough on the outside. She never liked it when others were sad. "You know, Emmi-love, this broom I'm making is going to be very, very special."

"Da, all your brooms are special." Ember laughed, looking up from scribbling at the handle of her drawn broomstick with a green colored pencil.

"Yes, that's true. But this one will be the most special of all, because it's not just any broom. It's going to be the very best broom in the world, and it's going to be yours. That's why it's special."

"Really? Mine?" Ember's eyes opened wide, twinkling with the idea of it. She adored her Nimbus more than anything else in the entire world except for her parents, but the very idea of a broomstick, made specifically for her… It was remarkable.

"Yes. It's going to be fast, and so nimble you'll be able to steer with just the very lightest of touches. Even lighter than the Firebolt. And you'll be able to do any trick your heart desires on it because it'll be a stunting broom, but it'll still have plenty of racing broom qualities." David explained, holding out his sketch, though it was only one of many. He already had a good idea of what it would be shaped like, but it never hurt to have Ember's input. "What do you think?"

"Shaped like my Nimbus, but thinner?" Ember asked, picking up the sketch and gazing at the gorgeous detail of it. She was pretty good at telling brooms apart on paper.

"Not too much thinner, but definitely a good bit lighter and still able to take hard damage. Why don't you work on a color scheme for me? Something you'd really like to fly on."

"Aye!" Ember nodded, grabbed her own paper and flipping it over. She started drawing again, pulling the tin of colored pencils colors to herself. She was silent for the next half an hour, going through many different ideas until she finally settled on one she liked the very best. She held up her paper, beaming, to show her father. "Look Da. This one!"

"Black handle with a blue tail?" David asked, surprised by the simplicity. Normally Ember's drawings were full of so many more colors. Rainbows tails, handles painted with puppies or hearts, insane add-ons that made absolutely no logical sense, like a little house elf who lived inside and made tiny delicious pies.

"A blue flame tail. See the different shades?" Ember pointed with her pencil, to the variations of blue she had used. David squinted and then laughed, nodding.

"Aye lass, I see them." Blue flames for a tail, now that was a bit more like what David had been expecting. "Because blue is your favorite color, right?"

"Mhm. And our last name has 'fire' in it." Ember grinned proudly, very pleased with her coloring. She had worked very hard to think up a good one, so she really hoped her Da would use it this time, especially because normally he couldn't. It wasn't that her drawings were bad, it was just most people didn't want to buy a broom that had so many different colors on it. Kamikaze always had a final vote on the design before they revealed a new broomstick. Very rarely did one pass that didn't have basic colors, such as brown or black. There had been one a few years ago with a green handle, but that had been because they'd cut a deal with the Holyhead Harpies. "Will the company like it?

"Tell you what love, I'll make certain, your broom looks just like this. Even if we have to change the colors for the public release, yours will have a black handle and a blue flame tail." David swore, holding out his pinky. Ember took it, staring, her little heart thudding excitedly in her chest. A broom. With a design she had created this time. Even if it was only just the one. The idea that it would be brought to life… It made her exceptionally happy.

"And silver. For the name." The girl stated seriously as she and her father shook pinkies, an impossibly sacred way to promise something. She knew for certain, that this broom was going to happen, because there was no way her Da would pinky swear it otherwise.

"Silver for the name. Got it. Alright, dearest girl, I think it's about high time I took a nap." David reached out, lifting Ember from the work bench and letting her locks her arms and legs around him, pressing her little face against his neck like she had always done. She was a very leggy child, and probably always would be. And gosh, she was getting big. She would probably be tall, like him and Meghan, though there was always the possibility that she would take after her grandmother and stop growing before she'd hit fifteen.

David carried Ember out of the workshop, making sure to close the door behind him. When it was closed, no one was allowed in without permission, though, he occasionally left it open while he was working, just in case he was needed. He took the few short steps down the hallway to another door marked with a gold name plate, his and Meghan's names engraved into it. It was an old pureblood wizarding tradition, name plates on bedroom doors. He pressed through the door, entering yet another sunny room, though this one smelt like green things, which, considering there were a lot of plants in pots in here and the windows were open, a slight summer breeze blowing in through them, it wasn't all that strange.

Setting his daughter down on the bed, David kicked off his shoes and flopped backwards onto it, stretching out his arms and yawning. He scooted, head finding his pillow while Ember imitated him, flopping backwards as well. They laid there, staring up at the ceiling as they always did when David decided to take a nap during the day. Ember always missed him when he was asleep or working, so she would stay until he was, waiting for his breathing to slow before she would go and run rampant outdoors again.

Both father and daughter lifted their shirts (or rather, dress in Ember's case), until their stomachs were exposed. Their hands moved downwards until they found their belly buttons and used their two pointer fingers to press at the sides, squishing absentmindedly at their navels, not even really noticing the other was doing it as well. This was such a regular occurrence, that when Meghan caught them at it, she couldn't help but cover her mouth to keep from laughing and ruining it. She had found it strange, the first time she'd seen David poking at his belly button, lost in thought, but when Ember had started naval squishing as well, without having really seen David doing it, she had known her daughter would never be much like her, and that was alright. David was a good man, and Meghan knew she would be blessed if Ember grew up to be just like him, even if she was a bit wild right now.

"Da, will you sing?" Ember asked after a couple of minutes, blue eyes moving to look at her father's face. He nodded, opening his mouth, voice gentle as the familiar old lullaby came flowing out of it.

"Come over the hill, my bonnie Irish lass. Come over the hill to your darling. You pick the rose love, and I'll make a vow. And I'll be your true love forever." David rolled over, reaching out a hand to stroke the hair back from Ember's forehead, singing to her as sweetly as he always did, even if his voice wasn't the best. It soothed her wild soul, for a little bit at least, and it usually helped him sleep too. "Red is the rose, that in yonder garden grows. Fair is the lily of the valley. Clear is the water, that flows from the Boyne. And my love is fairer than any. Your turn, little rose."

"Twas down by Killarney's green woods where we strayed. And the moon and the stars, they were shining. And the moon shone it's rays, on her locks of brown hair…"

"Golden hair, Emmi-love." David corrected, smiling.

"I know, but I think brown is prettier than blonde." Ember laughed, rolling onto her stomach and kicking her legs up into the air, moving them back and forth happily. David chuckled, shaking his head.

"Really? Brown. Hm, I thought you'd like red best, like me. Then again, you and your mother both have red hair."

"Aye, I know. Mum caught you with her hair. But I've always liked brown better. It reminds me of Nimbus and you. Can I dye mine? Then I could look more like you 'stead of Mammy."

"No darling lass. Never change that gorgeous hair of yours. It's unique and suits you perfectly. You should be proud to look like your mother. She is absolutely beautiful, and so will you be too when you're a grown lady."

"Fine then. But remember, I won't be a lady. I'll be the knight." Ember heaved a sigh, letting her legs fall and wishing for brown hair. She sat up, grabbing hold of a pillow and whacking her father promptly in the face with it. "Do you gotta take a nap?"

"Well, I suppose I should." David smiled, but he moved, reaching for his own pillow. Ember shot up onto her feet, but he was too fast for her. The pillow swung and slammed into the lower half of Ember's legs and she toppled downwards. David stood, racing for the door while his daughter was still trying to regain her bearings on the bed. "Then again, you might have to catch me first!"

Ember chortled, her laughter ringing through the house as her eyes shone. She pushed, rolling until she hit the edge of the bed and her feet hit the floor. Pillow raised above her head, she chased after her Da, so very glad he was hers.

* * *

This is set around one of my roleplay OCs when she was little and I just love her so much I couldn't resist. If you would like to see more of her, let me know. Or if you'd like to see her all grown up or enjoy Next-Generation roleplays, there's a link in my profile. This might become a series of one shots involving my other OCs pre-Hogwarts, but for now, it's just the one. Thanks so much for reading, I always love hearing your thoughts or opinions if you're willing to give them.

Love always,

S.Q.O.


	2. Chapter 2

**Ember**

_Age Ten_

Ember curled up into a tight ball, hugging her long legs with one arm, while her other clutched tightly round the old iron key hanging from her neck. Her blue eyes were open, staring forward, not a single emotion but shock glimmering within them. She was under her father's work bench, as the sky outside grew darker, unable to comprehend the events of the day before in her ten-year-old mind. She hadn't moved in hours and not a soul had bothered her aside from her mother occasionally peeking in to see what she was up to, or rather, if she had changed position or fallen asleep. Otherwise, the door was kept closed, as a slew of relatives moved about, in and out between the main living area of the cottage, and the large back garden. Voices spoke, murmured through the walls, the occasional wail let loose by an older aunt who could no longer control her grief. Yet, Ember didn't budge a muscle. She hadn't left her piece of floor in hours, not since she'd returned home. Not a single bit of her wanted to move from where she was, to accept what had happened. If she stayed put, perhaps time would to, and maybe, if she was there long enough, it would actually reverse…

It would go back. And her father, would not be gone.

…...

The day before had started out just like every single other day in the Stonefyre household. Meghan had risen early to tend to her plants before coming in to make breakfast and rouse her sleepy little girl from her bed. Ember was usually fairly difficult to pry from her cuddly little nest of exceptionally fuzzy blankets and pillows, but Meghan knew a thing or two about her girl, and apple pancakes were the most surefire way to rouse her, especially on a cold February day as this one was. The windows were frosted with fog, but the blue fire in the living room burned steady, keeping the cottage warm throughout. They didn't need to tend it or watch it as much as a regular fire, considering it was magic and it never spread beyond where it had been lit.

"Emily-Amber, breakfast is ready." Meghan stated softly, tiptoeing into the small bedroom with sky blue walls. Ember's room had always been little, despite her father having offered to make it bigger as his little girl grew. Ember had refused, liking the comfort of her small, simple bedroom. The door sat in the lower left corner, swinging inwards against the sliding closet doors, one half of them slightly blocked by a tall bookcase full of books ranging from learning tools to comic books, from the poetry of flowers to short wizarding novels meant for young children. Sitting flush up against the bookcase was a medium sized desk, a curved window above it, the gauzy white curtains hanging down limp above it. Somehow, the room was just long enough for the foot of Ember's twin bed to be pressed against the other side of the desk and the upper right hand corner of the room. She had no headboard or footboard, just a platform beneath the mattress, a trundle bed hiding underneath for when one of her cousins came for a sleep over. A little night stand and lantern sat next to the head of the bed, a framed picture of their little family resting upon it. Across from the bed, with barely four feet between them, was the low dresser, covered in small trophies from some of the junior broom stunting competitions Ember had entered in in the past few years. She had done well, receiving first place most of the time. Her Nimbus 2000 sat above the dresser, laying horizontally on a pair of special hooks her father had installed for her when she was seven and had first been given the broom. She could reach it easy if she climbed up onto her desk chair, sitting between the side of the dresser and her door.

Ember stirred slightly, shifting among her plethora of blanket, dark red hair a tangled mess as always. It wasn't like it was exceptionally curly, more straight with a partial wave towards the ends that made it prettier when her mother was able to curl it, but Ember always had better things to do than brush it out. Like run around outside with her cousins or practice her flying skills the best she could. She only had about six months left until she would be starting her first year at Hogwarts and would need to be as skilled as possible if she wanted to try and make her house Quidditch team. It was very rare for a first year to get on the team, but Ember was determined to do so, even if she technically wasn't allowed to bring her broom with her. She would be eleven in just a few days time actually, her birthday the 28th. The same day her father's company would be releasing their latest new broom model.

"Mmmph… Mammy, five more minutes." Ember pleaded, her Irish accent strong as always, identical to her mother's, but not quite her father's, who was English. She rolled over, burying her face deeper against her pillow, but her mother laughed, flopping down on the bed and pulling her daughter to her in a tight, snuggly hug. Ember didn't try to flail away, melting into it and cuddling closer to her mother. They didn't always get along, fighting like crazy most days, but it never made the love they had any less strong. Ember was still Meghan's beloved daughter, and Ember loved her Mam as much as any other child on the planet loved their mother, despite being much closer to her Da.

"But Emmi-love, I've made your favorite."

"Apple cinnamon pancakes?" The voice was not Ember's, but rather, belonged to her father as he came in the door, shaking snowflakes out of his brown hair. His cheeks were pink, blue eyes shining with absolute excitement despite the large bags beneath them that indicated he was exceptionally tired. He strode in, having already taken off his boots by the front door of the cottage, and proceeded to flop right on down on top of his wife and daughter, turning them into something resembling a pile of puppies. He wrapped his arms around them both, kissing their cheeks. "Come my fair ladies! Let us greet this new day with vigor, for there is much to celebrate."

"Mmm… pancakes." Ember rolled, not caring that she was half-suffocated under the weight of her parents, but rather, enjoying it immensely. Her mother smelt of pancake batter and gardening soil, while her father was pure sawdust and broom polish, currently mixed with the wintry air of outside. She snuggled down deeper beneath them, relishing the pure happiness that filled her when they chose to bury her with cuddles. Though, to be honest, it happened quite often. Her parents were always cuddling and loving on her, their precious daughter… the only child they had been able to have after countless years of trying and failing.

"To the table, dearest ladies!" David laughed, rolling off of the bed and pulling Meghan up after him. He pulled her tightly to his chest, kissing her lips with all the tenderness in the world before he reached out and snatched Ember up by the back of his old t-shirt that she's been wearing to bed for years now. It was for the Appleby Arrows, their favorite Quidditch team. The girl was heavier than she used to be, but he could still hoist her up onto one shoulder, causing her to squeal and flail slightly, laughing rather than frightened. Ember was horribly difficult to scare and always had been. She wasn't afraid of heights, or bugs, or any other type of creepy crawly. The closest thing he had ever seen to her scared was the one time he had crashed into a tree on his broomstick and been knocked unconscious.

"I'm a Knight, Da!" Ember shot back, shaking her head as he let her down, her bare feet hitting the wooden floor and taking off in the direction of their main living space.

"A Lady Knight then!" David called after her, chuckling as he watched her hair whip out behind her, a mess of curls and red that it usually took days to track her down and sort out just to have it return to it's mess again the next day.

"You look exhausted." Meghan whispered, reaching up and placing both hands on either side of David's face. He had been working exceptionally hard lately, trying to get the new broomstick ready for the release date. The time constraints were much shorter than usual on this one, simply because David insisted on releasing it on Ember's birthday. David's face was pale. He hadn't slept properly in days, barely settling down long enough to rest for just a few hours before he went back to work. It worried Meghan to bits, knowing her husband was straining himself so hard, but there was no stopping him. That man would do absolutely anything for his daughter, and he had worked harder than this before, back when the company had first been started. But, he had also been younger then. "Right after breakfast, you need to sleep."

"After Ember tests it out." David promised, his smile widening and Meghan stared, eyes going wide.

"It's finished?"

"Every little bit." David nodded. He stuck out his tongue, lapping up his wife's cheek, and then nuzzling his nose up against it, not caring that it was wet with his spit. Meghan didn't either, far too used to it from their school days to be bothered by it anymore. David was an oddball, showing his affection in ways similar to a canine half the time, which, considering his patronus was a wolf, made sense. "I tested it to be absolutely certain this morning. Everything is good to go."

"The holy grail of the pancakes is starting to grow cold!" Ember shouted, bouncing up and down as she sat in her usual chair. There were three of them, one at each end of the rectangular hand carved table, and Ember's, the one on the side that wasn't pressed against the back of the kitchen counter that jutted out from the wall, separating the living room and dining area from the kitchen. David had built just about everything, all of the furniture, the kitchen cupboards, right on down to the tiny stool that sat near the kitchen sink that Ember no longer needed, but still used sometimes to climb onto the counter so she could reach the higher shelves.

"We're coming, lass!" David called as he and Meghan came down the hallway. He grinned, shooting forward suddenly, shoving his head down between his wife's legs from behind, and lifting her right on up onto his shoulders while she let out a scream, grabbing at his head.

"David Stonefyre!"

Ember laughed, eyes shining as she watched her parents interact, their love as strong as it had ever been. They fought sometimes, but never for very long, unable to stay angry with each other. It made Ember happy, knowing her parents were happily glued to each other. "Knight Da! Lady Mam! The pancakes!"

Ember reached out, pulling pancakes off of the plate in the center of the table and placing them on each of the three other plates sitting in their spots. Two each to start, though she would probably end up eating four like she normally did. Her mother was right. Cinnamon apple pancakes were her absolute favorite… actually, anything apple was her favorite.

David crouched by Meghan's chair, enough for her to slide off of him, and then moved around the table, planting a kiss on his daughter's fiery locks as he went. He sat, pulling his plate close and offering up the honey to his wife, while his daughter began devouring hers plain. She had always been a funny thing, Ember. She was practically a vegetarian, eating mostly whatever came out of her mother's garden more than anything else, though she was never opposed to actually eating meat when it was served. She was just more of a fruit girl than anything else, always an apple in her pocket. She ate the whole thing too, core, stem, and seeds, an oddity neither David or Meghan had ever understood but then, it didn't hurt her.

"Hey, Emmi-bear, guess what?" David grinned, cutting into his pancakes with his fork and bringing the bite to his mouth. Ember turned her head, half of a pancake hanging out of her mouth while she had a second one in both hands. Oh ever the lady.

"Use your fork, lass! For goodness sake…" Meghan slammed her palm into her forehead, shaking it with a defeated sigh. She had tried, for years now, to get the child to at least have something resembling proper manners. She was good about her 'pleases' and 'thank yous', not so much the eating with utensils when she was presented with something dry enough to be picked up without getting her fingers sticky… and occasionally when she was going to get them impossibly messy anyway. Ember turned her head, swallowing her pancake and setting the other one down. She reached up, scratching at her cheek as she grinned rather sheepishly at her mother. A smile that could have melted even the most frozen of hearts.

"Sorry Mam." Ember apologized, reaching out and lifting her fork from where it sat by her plate. She returned her attention to her father, eyes questioning. What did he have up his sleeve this time? It was always something when he had that look on his face… Something good had happened. Her eyes went wide as realization hit her and she leaned towards him, fork poised, pancakes forgotten. "It's done?"

"Aye." David grinned, waggling his eyebrows. Ember pushed up from the table, her legs taking her only as far as her father's arm could reach. He grabbed hold of her shirt and tugged, pulling her back and into her seat, laughing. "Finish your breakfast, darling, and then you can test it out."

Ember dropped her fork and grabbed up her pancake, shoving it into her mouth as fast as she possibly could. Her mother heaved a sigh, completely giving up this time. There would be other meals to correct her daughter's behavior during. There was no possible way to reason with her broom obsessed child, not when she had just found out her father had finally finished the broom she had been waiting on for over three years. Her father had refused to even so much as let her see it, going as far as to lock his workshop to keep her from peeking while he was working on it.

As soon as her plate was clean, the last bit of pancake stuffed into her cheeks and being chewed, Ember looked at her mother. David found Meghan's eyes as well, his and Ember's blue ones boring into her, shining and waiting until she gave a simple nod. "Oh, go on then, you kamikazes."

Ember dashed, still chewing, away from the table. She raced to her bedroom and pulled on a pair of jeans from where they had been discarded on the floor the day before. They were still slightly damp from being out in the snow, but she didn't care at the moment. She swallowed the rest of her pancake and rushed from her bedroom to the coat rack by the front door, snatching hers from it's hook and tugging it on as her mother crossed the room. Meghan grabbed the grey winter hat from a basket by the foot of the coat rack and shoved it on over her daughter's hair, knowing it was pointless to try and add the matching mittens. Ember rarely covered her hands, even if they went red and tingly. It inhibited her broom handling abilities. Two small feet were shoved into boots. "Come on Da!"

David smiled, finishing up his pancakes and rising from his chair. He made a show of bringing his plate to the sink before meandering over to where his daughter bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet by the door. He retrieved his boots, putting them on one at a time, tying them slowly, and then, made his way down the hallway towards his workshop. "Eyes closed, sweet rose!"

Ember slammed her hands over her eyes, squeezing them shut and trying not to peek as much as she desperately wanted to. She had always been very bad about waiting for surprises, wanting to see them or know what they were right away. Of course, she knew what this surprise was, but she was so very excited to see it she could barely contain herself. She listened, hearing the workshop door open, and then, a few moments later, close again. She bounced harder on her feet, practically jumping from one to the other.

"Alright." David laughed, holding out the broomstick towards her. "You can look now, dearest."

Ember dropped her hands, gazing forward. Her eyes went wide as tea saucers, jaw dropping in absolute wonder as the broomstick came into focus. It was absolutely stunning… and the best part was, it looked exactly like the coloring she had done when she was younger. Her father had asked of course, over the years, if she wanted to change it, but she was dead set determined on that one image.

The handle gleamed, black ebony, freshly polished. It was skinner than Ember's Nimbus, but retained the same slightly bent shape. It would be lighter as well, due to the materials used. The tail was almost the best part, twigs in all different shades of blue interspersed, giving it the appeared of a flickering flame. The name on the handle, in her Da's beautifully painted silver script said 'Stonefyre's Black Comet', but then David spun the broom around and Ember let out a gasp.

Her name… had been placed on the other side of the broom where normally it would have been blank. It was there, plain as day, the big E at the beginning with the loop in the middle and extra curling on all of the letters, just the way she liked them.

Ember shot forward, hugging her father tightly around his middle, burying her face between his chest and stomach before she tilted her head back, gazing up at him with eyes that shone like stars in the night sky. "You're the best, Da."

"Oh I know." David grinned conceitedly, hugging his daughter back, feeling his heart soar with how much she liked her broomstick. It had taken forever to perfect, years, but every ounce of effort was worth it for his sweet blazing child. The man had thought he knew what love really was the day he had married Meghan, and then they finally had had Ember and it had changed ten-fold. He would have walked to the other side of the planet if it meant his little girl got to be safe and happy. Damn, he would miss her when she went off the school, to be surrounded by other youngsters like herself… and boys. So many boys…

David groaned inwardly, wondering what kind of young man his daughter would undoubtedly come carting home at some point. Probably someone just as wild as she was, with long hair and tattoos. Or perhaps, maybe, if she was so inclined, she would bring home a girl instead. She had mentioned before that she wanted to be a Knight and marry some kind of fair lady, but then, sometimes she also spoke aloud about what kind of boy she thought she would like to be with. Usually that one good looking Beater on the Appleby Arrows. Well, whomever she ended up bringing home, he hoped she'd have an easy time making friends at school. Ember had never really known anything aside from their little patch of paradise among her mother's side of the family. Everyone loved her, as families were so inclined to do. Perhaps, if they were lucky, she'd find a mate who could keep her grounded enough to see reason, but let her soar anyway. And had a good sense to help steer her clear of any bad eggs. Not that David or Meghan were really judgmental, however, they did want their daughter to do good and keep out of trouble.

"Da, let's go try it now. Please, please please?" Ember begged, tugging at his hand now, dragging him towards the sliding glass back door that led out to the large garden. Her anticipated was palpable in the air, and David laughed, following after her. He reached out, pushing the door open and they tramped out into the snowy world, their boots crunching against the ground as Meghan followed behind them. She usually tried not to watch too much whenever Ember got going on her broomstick, knowing her heart couldn't take watching her daughter flip through the air like some kind of Muggle trapeze artist. However, today was different. This was a special occasion, and while she knew it would make her stomach churn with worry. Meghan was going to watch her daughter test out her new broom.

They found a more wide open space, away from too many of the trees, and David bent down, staring his daughter directly in the eyes with absolute seriousness. "Now, my love, you need to remember. The Comet is not your Nimbus. It's more sensitive and much faster, so you need to be extra careful. Super light touches and use that fast thinking I know you've got in that head of yours. And first and foremost, don't trust your body like you normally do. Your muscle memory isn't tuned to this broom yet, treat it as such."

Ember nodded, her jaw set, eyes fearless. Her Da had made this broom specifically for her, and she was going to learn how to fly it properly. To be worthy of such a precious gift. She would learn, and she would grow, and she would make him genuinely proud of her and the amount of time he had spent creating this broom for her.

"Good girl. Alright then. Go ahead." David smiled, holding out the broomstick. Ember took it from him, spinning it around in her hand and mounting it in one smooth movement. She turned her head, looking back at him and her mother for a moment before she took off.

The broom rocketed forward and up, taking Ember with it. She held on, letting out a whoop as she turned it with ease, bringing herself back around, soaring over her parents. David beamed, gazing up at her. He reached out, pulling Meghan to his side by her waist and she rested her head against his shoulder, able to feel the pure happiness emanating off of him. There was something so simple, just watching their daughter in her element.

Ember did a couple of circles over the yard, getting used to the feel of the broom before she urged it to go faster. However, in her haste, she gripped it a little too hard. It would have been fine had it been her Nimbus, but this was not her Nimbus. This was the Comet, a broom to end all brooms. And it was speeding up much, much too fast. Ember started losing control, unable to keep up with it as it went over the top speed of her Nimbus and beyond. Her steering faltered, and she started zigzagging rapidly back and forth, the broom continuing to accelerate. Fear pulsed through her. She had never, ever, lost total control of a broomstick before, not like this. Sure, she crashed quite a bit, but that was different. That was her losing control of her body during one of her stunts, never her broom, or coming up short when she should have slowed down sooner and slamming into a tree. Ember was quite impossibly good at running into trees, mostly their branches, resulting in slashes across her face more often than not. But that she was used to.

This… This broom was a whole other animal entirely.

"Ember!" David shouted, running forward as he watched her start to swerve. At this point she was no more than a blur in the air, but he knew something was wrong. Ember had impossibly steady hands, she never swerved like that unless it was on purpose, and there was no way she would do it on a brand new broom, not at that speed.

"Emily-Amber, slow down!" Meghan cried out, horror on her face as she watched her daughter lose all control for the first time ever. She chased after David, both of them running after their daughter.

"Ember, bail out!" David called, snatching his wand from his back pocket and aiming it as his little red headed baby.

Ember did as she was told, knowing her Da would never tell her to abandon the broom in the air unless he could catch her. So, she let go, rolling herself off of the broomstick and falling towards the ground from thirty feet in the air. David was ready though. He waved his wand as he continued towards her, Meghan hot on his heels, her own wand out. They both shot a cushioning charm towards their daughter, and Ember landed safely, bouncing slightly before she even hit the top of the snow, and then coming down easy. The broom kept going forward, but descending quickly without it's rider, until it landed, quite unscathed, in the snow a good distance away.

"Emmi!" David hurled himself forward, grabbing hold of his daughter and pulling him to her before looking her over quickly for any sign of injury. She was trembling, but otherwise appeared to be unharmed. Meghan grabbed hold of her as well, lifting one arm and then the next, eyes searching with panic, for anything broken or bleeding.

"I'm okay." Ember stated, voice muffled by her father's jacket as he stroked at her hair. His heart was pounding in his chest, a slightly erratic thumping that seemed to miss a beat every now and then, but, it had always sounded that way. Faster than her mother's, like it was working harder, but then, it was probably just a male thing. Her Da was fit and strong all over. Just like Ember was already starting to become as her body grew. "Da, it went too fast… Way too fast."

"I'm sorry, sweetheart. I should have gone up with you the first time. Don't worry though, you'll get it. We just have to practice, right?"

"Right." Ember nodded, her fear of the broom subsiding a bit now that she was safely tucked between her parents. It would be much better, learning how to fly it with her Da right there to help her. Had she been older, she might have been able to do it on her own with ease, like her father had when he was testing it out. But she wasn't older, she was still just a little girl, and when you were little, it was alright to accept help from your parents when it came to learning new things. That was just how the world worked.

"Well, I think it has been quite enough for today." Meghan sighed, knowing that protesting the use of the overly-fast broom would only fall upon deaf ears. David could handle the damn thing, and he would teach Ember to as well, whether she liked it or not. She wasn't going to stand in the way of their dreams, though, she would be ready with a scolding should it be needed later. "I have some deliveries to make, and David, you need to rest."

"But…" Ember began to protest, jutting out her lip and shaking her head at having to wait longer to really learn how to fly her new broom.

"Shh, your mother is right, darling. Come on, let's gather up the beast of a broomstick and head inside. I think it's going to snow soon anyway."

…...

David was right. Great big snowflakes fell rapidly past the windows of the warm cottage as Ember made them lunch consisting of nothing more than a peanut butter and jelly sandwiches with an apples on the side. Her father was resting, sitting in the old rocking chair by the fire at the moment, moving slightly back and forth. He had built the chair over eleven years ago, shortly before Ember was due to be born. She had never been soothed much in it though, not nearly as much as she had when her father had taken her up on his broom in a sling attached to his chest.

Meghan was still off on her deliveries, and while she had tried to get David to do to bed, he had insisted he was perfectly capable of resting in his favorite chair instead. Right now, his eyes were closed, listening to the clatter of Ember moving about the kitchen. He looked up as she set a plate down on the coffee table beside him and then dashed back to get her own, setting it down on the table as well before she sat on the floor. She stayed quiet, a remarkable occurrence when she was usually so inclined to jabber on about everything and anything that came into her head. Meghan had told her to try and let her Da be, to be a good girl so he could sleep. So that's what she was doing, even if she really wanted to open her mouth. That, and her Da didn't look too good at the moment.

David's face had lost a lot of color since they had come back inside and he hadn't moved much in his chair since he'd sat down. His rocking was as steady as always, the only indication that he wasn't actually asleep. The multiple nights of not getting enough sleep and overworking himself combined with the exertion of that morning's antics had really done him in this time. He could feel his heart pounding more and more rapidly in his chest, trying to keep up with the rest of his body, skipping beats more often than usual.

Ember finished her lunch and moved, rising from the floor, and gently climbing into her father's lap. She rested against him sideways, his arms coming up to hold her. He leaned down, kissing the top of her head as he continued to rock them both now, relishing the scent of apples and cinnamon that she emitted. It was a special edible shampoo Meghan made, the scent of it enough to get Ember in the bath when she was a toddler and it had been a battle just to wrangle her long enough to dip her in the water. The fact that it could be eaten as well had just enticed the child further until she willingly would climb into the tub. Now it was just something familiar, an indication that everything was right in the world because David's little girl was close.

"Da?" Ember asked after a few minutes, burying her cheek against his shirt.

"Aye, love?"

"Your heart is moving really funny…"

"I know. It's alright though, it's only…" David winced suddenly, bending forward over Ember, his arms tightening around her as his heart jolted, moving faster and faster. His face began to sweat and he panicked slightly, just causing his heart to move more rapidly.

"Da?" Ember blinked, eyes widening with worry as her father let out a groan. He reached up, cupping her face gently. Her blue eyes stared back at him, curtained by those gorgeous deep red locks.

"I love you, Ember, my sweet rose. Get help." David sputtered out, kissing her temple before giving her a shove.

"Da? Da!?" Ember panicked, moving to her feet. She stared at him as she headed quickly for the door, watched as the light faded from his eyes, identical to hers, and he slumped forward in his chair, nearly falling out of it. Ember paused, eyes locked on her father before she screamed, running out the door barefoot, into the snow, shouting at the top of her voice.

…...

A weak heart. Flawed with such a minute defect it had not been caught at birth. A ticking time bomb that would eventually run out of power to continue beating.

That's what the Healers had called it when Ember's mother had met them at the hospital, but, by the time Ember had even made it to the front door, David Stonefyre was gone. It had happened so quickly and unexpectedly, that Meghan had barely been able to make it to the chair to sit beside her daughter, tears falling down her face as the words she had never wanted to hear met her ears. Her husband, her kind, loving, strong husband, was dead and there was nothing she, or anyone else, could have done to save him.

Ember hadn't said a word, not a single one since Meghan had shown up and hugged her tightly to her. The little redhead hadn't even shed a single tear, her whole being in such a state of shock, she wasn't fully comprehending anything going on around her. Catatonic, the Healers said. She would come out of it once the gravity of the situation hit her, but in the mean time, Meghan would have to wait for her to do so. After all, it wasn't every day you saw your father die right before your eyes. They had had to stay at the hospital overnight, unable to get Ember to move from her chair. She just sat there, staring forward, for hours, her mouth half open, one hand gripping the key around her neck, pressing her pinky between the teeth so hard she had broken the skin. As dawn had come, Meghan had lifted her daughter from the chair, cradling her despite Ember being slightly too heavy for her at this point. The child hadn't even looked at her.

Once home, Meghan had set Ember down, and the girl had stood there for a few moments before dashing away down the hallway, through the door at the end and into her father's work shop where she had hidden herself away beneath the work table.

And it was only then, surrounded by the scent of her father and his work, that Ember cried, listening to her mother's wracking sobs coming from the other room.

* * *

Excuse me while I go and ponder over why I wrote something so sad. Thanks for reading!


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